


Black and White Love

by AmazingNicola



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Blood, M/M, NO SERIOUSLY DON'T READ IF TRIGGERS, NOT SOULMATES THO, Sad, Self Harm, Suicide, colour play, oh course this is me, self-hate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 16:24:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3388397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmazingNicola/pseuds/AmazingNicola
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Black. Black and White, that is all Dan see’s anymore. This isn’t some creepy soulmates fanfiction, no; this is Dan’s real life. Not that that is all he really can see. He can see every colour actually; it’s just that he can’t stand to see any other colour.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black and White Love

**Author's Note:**

> The ending sucks I know, I wanted to experiment with the idea of colour and not including Phil's name anywhere in the fic. I think of it as Dan is to upset by what happened to even think of his name but you can come to your own conclusions.  
> This took me quite a while to write and this is the story I'm most proud of, so comments are appreciated, unbeta-ed as usual so any spelling/grammar errors please tell me :)  
> THIS ISN'T SOULMATE AU SORRY

Black. Black and White, that is all Dan sees anymore. This isn’t some creepy soulmates fanfiction, no; this is Dan’s real life. Not that that is all he really can see. He can see every colour actually; it’s just that he can’t stand to see any other colour. Blue reminds him of his eyes, green reminds him of his bed sheets, red reminds him of the blood seeping from his body when he found him. He shouldn’t like the colour black really, the black of his hair, the black of the ink he wrote that note in. The one that told Dan of how he hated the world. The note that told Dan that he was so caught up in his own world that Dan didn’t notice his boyfriend slowly melting and fading out of existence. Dan wishes he’d noticed really, this colourless world could’ve been prevented if he had noticed. Dan hates himself for that. Not noticing him slowly killing himself from the inside out. Not that Dan could’ve helped, he never knew what to do when people were sad, he could tell jokes yes, make fun of himself yes, that worked when people were sad. But when they were depressed he had no idea, depression can’t be cured with a simple one-liner and a movie, he wishes it could be but alas not.

What has Dan come to? He finds himself staring at the wall most days, that wall used to be light blue, but after he got angry at himself for being so oblivious he didn’t notice his best friend falling from his grasp he threw a bucket of white paint at it. The wall now had a massive white stain in the middle. Dan liked it that way, it made him think of how his life was colour and then he disappeared and the white took over, slowly creeping through Dan’s world and taking his colour, taking his right to feel something. White didn’t make him feel anything. So much for purity. So much for beauty and heaven, no white gave him nothing. It was the spectrum that gave him hope, gave him the power to live on. It was his angel in checked shirts and jeans that gave him the visions of heaven. Its sounds cliché but Dan was in heaven when he was with him. But now his angel of light and colour had left him, traded Dan away for a shock of red and silver. People always laugh at Dan for wearing all black, but he always felt that he didn’t need to be colourful because his companion made up for his lack of colour. Dan wasn’t the colourful one, Dan was the monochrome one. Dan got his colour from the brightness of his lover’s eyes. There was enough colour there for him.

It had been three weeks now, he hadn’t cleaned the last remaining colour of the bathroom floor yet. Even though his colour wasn’t there anymore he wanted to keep the last bit of it there for as long as possible. Dan understood that he would have to clean it soon, but he wanted the burgundy puddle of hatred to stay there for as long as possible. He wanted it to stay there because it reminded Dan of what a terrible person he was, how he shouldn’t have let his colour drain from his life. It reminded Dan that it was his fault; it was his fault that all the colour was gone. Dan was selfish. That’s what he had said, well not in those words, but Dan can read between the lines. He may have said he loved Dan and that he should live his life but Dan knew it was his fault.

Dan wishes he could just get up and sort out his mess of a life, starting with the colour. He didn’t need the colour, why can’t it just leave? Dan would be happy living in black and white, living a greyscale life seems nice right now; if his life was greyscale he wouldn’t see the harsh colours of his remains. Dan had called an ambulance as soon as he found him there; they had taken the body and told him to clean the remains. They had told Dan to wash away the last bit of his lover with a damp tea towel, well like Dan was capable of that, he just left it there.

A therapist phoned him the day after, the paramedics must have contacted her after he didn’t turn up to see his best friend for the last time, after a police woman came to see Dan and found him painting his kitchen ceiling black to match his world. That was probably why. Or the fact that Dan refused to go to his funeral. He kind of regretted that. It was the thought of the light pink lilies that his mum had told him would be everywhere. She sounded so excited yet sad. A weird mixture. She was happy she had found the right flowers for her son, yet sad that she had to pick them. Dan knows she always wanted her son to pick out the flowers at her funeral, not the other way round. Dan just couldn’t face all the colour that is associated with him. He couldn’t stand it. So Dan didn’t go. Yes he bought a suit, black and white of course, but instead of going to the funeral he waited until after and sat by his grave, white roses clutched in his grasp. He just sat there for hours, staring at the headstone that symbolized the man he loved. But even then the green grass was too vivid, the blue sky too blinding. Dan spent his entire time there with his eyes closed, blocking out the colour and happiness with a black abyss.

He remembers that day when he found the lion. The yellow and brown lion. That was the first colour he saw in a while. He hadn’t left his room for a while, he just stared at the black and grey of his bed sheets, but then he found that bundle of love and affection hidden under his pillow when he shifted. Dan had just sat staring at it for a long time, 4 hours he thinks. But then in an instant Dan was holding a pen knife and the sacred toy’s head was rolling across the floor. That was the one thing Dan regretted, it was the last part of him he had left, and he had destroyed it. God was he stupid. He had tried everything to get that head reattached. Glue, stitches, hell he’d even tried sellotape but nothing would get it to stay attached. Dan set fire to it after that, watching the colour flicker and change to black ash. It was like them, he was colourful and then Dan arrived and he turned slowly to black, floating in the wind.

Dan hates this world, everything is too vibrant. Too much. Too him. Dan needs a way out, he wishes he could turn to the method that the other man had used, but Dan couldn’t bear the thought of his last sight being the bright deadly colour leaving his body. Dan liked to believe that he had no colour. None. So if he bled he would see the deep red leaving his body and realise he wasn’t monochrome. That he had some colour in him. That idea didn’t appeal to Dan really. Dan was black. Dan was white. Not red. That was him, not Dan. And it had to stay that way, it had to. Dan had to stay alive, because the scarlet of his blood scared him enough to make him realise he had no choice in the matter. He never did.


End file.
